


Titans Drabbles

by orphan_account



Category: Titans (TV 2018)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Demonic Possession, Domestic Fluff, Drabble Collection, Dreams and Nightmares, F/M, First Dates, Gen, Hurt Dick Grayson, Jealousy, Major Character Injury, Missing Scene, Revenge, Short, The Princess Bride References, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-10-21 09:22:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20691176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A collection of drabbles and oneshots set in the Titansverse.1. Dick/Kory - Falling in love, set mid-S1.2. Dick-centric - Inigo was always Dick's favourite character inThe Princess Bride.3. Dick/Kory - Their first date.4. Hurt!Dick, Titans - Dick hides an injury. That was a mistake.5. Dick/Kory and Kory/Faddei - Dick gets jealous.6. Gar & Dick - Gar has always had nightmares, but recently they've gotten worse.





	1. falling in love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kory doesn’t know if its love, doesn’t know if she’s capable of love beyond the fierce protectiveness and pride that grows whenever she’s around Rachel or Gar, but it’s something. It’s more than Konstantin Kovar ever got from her, and by the looks of it, they’d been together for months. She’s known Dick for two weeks.

Kory hadn’t known anything about herself when she’d met Konstantin Kovar, but she’d known she didn’t love him. She was unsure about so much - about everything - but somehow that had been a rock solid certainty in her mind. 

Kory knows a little more about herself now. She knows she was looking for Rachel before she lost her memory, she knows she’s not human. She knows how to pull on the warm fire rippling beneath the surface and turn it into a supernova. 

She knows Dick Grayson is getting under her skin. 

Kory doesn’t know if its love, doesn’t know if she’s capable of love beyond the fierce protectiveness and pride that grows whenever she’s around Rachel or Gar, but it’s something. It’s more than Konstantin Kovar ever got from her, and by the looks of it, they’d been together for months. She’s known Dick for two weeks.

He’s pretty, the kind of pretty that makes her want to ruin him, and he’s got a smart mouth that rubs her up the wrong way every hour like clockwork. He cares about Rachel and Gar both, deeply and desperately, and doesn’t know how to deal with that at all. 

It’s not love. But Kory looks at him asleep, chest rising and falling slowly, and thinks maybe one day it could be.


	2. you killed my father, prepare to die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donna and Dick didn’t tend to agree on much - indeed, sometimes Dick felt certain that Donna would change her opinion at times just so she could argue with him until he admitted she was right and he was wrong - but they agreed that Inigo was the best character. “My name is Inigo Montoya,” they’d chorus together alongside the character as he confronted the six-fingered man, bouncing up and down on Bruce’s million dollar sofa in excitement, “You killed my father. Prepare to die!”
> 
> Dick can’t remember the last time he watched that movie. He stills knows Inigo’s speech by heart, thinks it’s seared into his brain in permanent marker, and when Zucco chokes out “Please- I’ll give you whatever you want-” he knows his line.

As a kid, Dick’s favourite film was _ The Princess Bride. _He could quote most of it by heart, and when he and Donna were younger and kept away from the threats their guardians felt they weren’t old enough, trained enough, strong enough to handle, it was the obvious choice for the night’s entertainment and distraction. 

(Alfred never let them watch the news on those days. Neither of them fought him particularly hard on that, not after the first time.)

Donna and Dick didn’t tend to agree on much - indeed, sometimes Dick felt certain that Donna would change her opinion at times just so she could argue with him until he admitted she was right and he was wrong - but they agreed that Inigo was the best character. “My name is Inigo Montoya,” they’d chorus together alongside the Spaniard as he confronted the six-fingered man, bouncing up and down on Bruce’s million dollar sofa in excitement, “You killed my father. Prepare to die!”

Dick can’t remember the last time he watched that movie. He stills knows Inigo’s speech by heart, thinks it’s seared into his brain in permanent marker, and when Zucco chokes out “Please- I’ll give you whatever you want-” he knows his line. 

_ (I want my father back, you son of a bitch!) _

“I want my parents back!” It tears out of him like a sob; he knows it’s a giveaway, a dead giveaway, but he couldn’t stop himself if he tried. The man’s throat pulses beneath his hand, and it would be so easy, so _ easy- _

“Grayson?” He chokes out. 

In a way, it helped that he remembered. That he hadn’t orphaned so many little boys that he didn’t know exactly who had come after him. In a way, it was worse. It was worse because Zucco knew, not who he was - Dick had never cared less about his secret identity than he did right then, would’ve come out in plainclothes if it wouldn’t have raised Bruce’s suspicion - but what he’d done. He knew what he’d done.

_ (Offer me money. _ Yes! _ Power too, promise me that. _ All that I have and more- please! _ Offer me everything I ask for! _ Anything you want. _ I WANT MY FATHER BACK, YOU SON OF A BITCH!) _

“Give me one reason not to,” somebody says, and after a moment Dick realises it’s him. “One!”

(It’s a dark night. They’re standing on a bridge. One little push, and gravity would do the rest. It was what Zucco had done to his parents - a little acid on the wire, and a message was sent. A little cut and an orphan was made. No need to bloody his hands at all. Dick can still hear his mother screaming. Dick can still see them falling. Dick had been twelve years old. Dick had been _ twelve years old. _He had felt so grown up at twelve, so big, so mature, but he looks back now- he looks at twelve year olds, middle schoolers with big eyes and cracking voices, and he knows how young he really was.)

Zucco says nothing. Zucco says _ nothing. _Dick wonders if that’s better or worse. 

(He knows what he did, he knows what he did, he knows what he did.)

A heave, and Dick pulls him away from the railing, kicks him to the ground. Robin’s been training for a long, long time and he knows how to make every blow hurt. He wants him to hurt. He wants-

He wants-

He feels bones break under his fists as he pummels Zucco’s face in. He wants blood. He wants that moment Inigo had, where it was all worth it, where it was done, where he could know he’d finally avenged his father, that he was _ done. _

He hits a kidney. Snaps his leg. It’s not enough, it’s not _ enough. _

Something hisses behind him, and guns click in the blankness of the fog. “The Maronis-” Zucco gasps out of his ruined face, and Dick’s legs move him behind the cover of the van before his brain has even kicked into gear, muscle memory of fourteen years telling him that a threat he can’t see is a threat he can’t stop. 

He needs to clear the smoke somehow, needs to get a high vantage point, maybe put in an anonymous call to the cops if they haven’t figured out yet that Maroni’s prison transport has been compromised-

He looks at Zucco, floundering on the ground, half crippled and bloody and squinting into the darkness, shaking. He thinks, _ no. _ He thinks _ I want my parents back, I want my parents back, I want my parents back- _

“Help me!” Zucco gasps, extending a hand. 

He wavers. He almost steps forward. Almost.

“Please,” Zucco says, strength failing him as his voice breaks.

A long time ago, Dick had screamed for help, had begged for it. He still woke up hearing his mother screaming sometimes. He tried not to remember what they looked like in death, knew it wasn’t how they’d want him to think of them, but there’s no way to truly erase the memory - his father’s blank eyes, staring at nothing. The blood mingling with the sand around their bodies. The white of the ribs poking out his mother’s chest. It was a long time ago, but Dick knew he’d never forget.

“No,” he says and watches. 

It’s a long time before he watches _ The Princess Bride _again. It’s Donna who brings it up, because Kory’s an alien and has thus never seen it. “You’ve gotta tell us who your favourite character is,” the Amazon enthuses to Kory’s obvious bemusement, “You’re the deciding vote between Inigo and Westley.”

“I didn’t know we were having a vote,” Dick says, and Donna rolls her eyes.

“Don’t worry, I put you down as Inigo,” she responds. 

He bites his lip, and says nothing, settling into the sofa as Rachel turns down the lights. It’s just a movie, after all.

Most of it, he still remembers, but there’s a line at the end that Dick forgot about. 

“It’s very strange,” Inigo says to Westley as they prepare to ride off into the sunset, “I’ve been in the revenge business for so long, now that it’s over I don’t know what to do with the rest of my life.”

Dick looks at the kids, looks at his kids, and thinks he might finally have some idea.


	3. first date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth is, Dick honestly doesn’t realise that they’re on a date until Kory kisses him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dick and Kory's first date, as requested by Vanessa N Isaacs.

The truth is, Dick honestly doesn’t realise that they’re on a date until Kory kisses him. In his defence, the night doesn’t start with the two of them - it’s Hank who suggested going out to a bar, Donna who bullied Dick into taking the night off from training, and Dawn who suddenly saw an old friend outside no sooner had they piled into a booth and dragged Donna and Hank outside to catch up. 

And then Dick’s caught up in the way that the warm lighting makes Kory’s skin look golden, the fall of her hair and the shine of her eyes, and forgets how very suspicious it all is.

She’s so beautiful. He thought that maybe he’d made it up, how beautiful she is. Three months away from her and he’d doubted the veracity of his memories, overcome by the way she haunted his waking hours whenever he let himself stop and think about anything other than the Titans for even a moment. 

“I missed you,” he tells her, randomly, an hour and a half after the others had wandered away and never come back. He’s just finished telling her about the time Gar got stuck on the ceiling as a snake and got too scared to come down for six hours, and she’s giggling like a child, like no time at all has passed. The words have been stuck in the back of his throat for days now, and he has a moment of panic that he never should have spoken the thought out loud before Kory leans forward, cups the back of his neck with her warm hand, and kisses him full on the mouth. It’s soft, and sweet, and his face burns with warmth.

“What was that for?” He asks, when they finally pull apart. 

Kory puts her hand on his cheek, and looks at him for a long moment with soft eyes. 

“I missed you too,” she says.


	4. hiding an injury

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Get my phone, the passcode is 0912 - go into the contacts, call Leslie Thompkins. Tell her that Dick’s unresponsive, has a severe bruising along the torso and his pulse is-” she reaches out, takes his limp wrist in hers and pauses, “-fuck, really weak. I think it might be internal bleeding. _Hurry_.”
> 
> “He’d have noticed if he had internal bleeding-” Hank protests, even as Jason runs out of the room, “I’ve been there, it’s not something you just ignore. You get dizzy, confused, cold, feverish and usually the blood shows itself one way or another.”
> 
> “He may very well have noticed,” Dawn bites out, “doesn’t mean he thought to say anything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hurt!Dick hiding an injury, as requested by Kendall.

Dawn is an early riser, always has been. She squirms out of Hank’s loose hold to pad into the kitchen, bleary eyed and barefoot. She looks around for Dick, who is usually fully dressed before sunrise, but she’s the first one up today. It’s rare, but not unheard of, and she clicks the coffee machine on with a yawn and a languid stretch, feeling oddly proud of herself for beating him. 

The coffee revives Hank a little, and by the time he’s staggered into their ensuite bathroom for a shower, Donna, Gar and Rachel are up too. Rachel even asks about Dick’s uncharacteristic absence, which Dawn will beat herself up over later - “he’s entitled to a lie in,” she tells the younger girl with a soft smile, and starts making pancake batter whilst Donna swipes the last of the coffee, knowing the smell will summon the others to the kitchen. 

Kory and Jason are always the last to rise, and are always reluctant to do so. Kory insists that it’s the custom on Tamaran to rise in the evening after spending the day sleeping and soaking in solar rays to charge their powers to maximum capacity; after saying so, Donna will remind her that she’s not on Tamaran anymore, and they’ll snip at each other for the rest of the day. Hank says it’s their way of flirting, and Dawn kind of agrees. 

It’s when Jason stumbles into the main living area, hair looking like a living thing had made it’s nest there in the night, that Dawn feels the first twinge of real worry. Dick is a light sleeper, always has been; even if he had uncharacteristically decided to go back to sleep when he first woke up, he wouldn’t be able to stay that way with the commotion of breakfast happening right outside his door. Plus, in all the years she’s known him, both as Robin and as Dick Grayson, he has never slept past ten, regardless of how late he was out the night before. It’s now almost eleven.

She says as much to Donna, who lets out a long suffering sigh. “Right, I’m going in,” she says, rolling her shoulders and cracking her knuckles in an exaggerated way. Rachel giggles. Dawn pulls out a bowl and that astonishingly unhealthy cereal that Dick can eat by the box if nobody stops him - the pancakes are long gone, and so is the coffee. This is the consolation prize. 

_ “-FUCKING HELP!”  _

Donna’s scream cuts through the tower like a shockwave, before everyone is springing into action. Even Jason and Kory who had laid mostly horizontal on the sofas jump to attention, thundering towards Dick’s ajar door. 

At first, Dawn doesn’t understand the source of Donna’s distress. Dick’s in bed, the curtains are still drawn, there’s nobody else here - it’s only when Donna straightens up from where she was hunched over Dick that she sees the sickly pallor of Dick’s usually tan skin and how he doesn’t react even when Donna shakes him, head lolling back bonelessly. She turns on her heel and runs for the first aid kit stashed beneath the sink as chaos erupts behind her, filled with a terrible kind of energy that only usually comes to her when in uniform. 

Everyone’s shouting when she hurries back into the room - Rachel’s white faced and trembling in the corner, eyes burning red and black, liquid rising around her like a cocoon, and Gar and Kory are trying to calm her; somebody has stripped the duvet away from Dick’s body revealing the left side of his torso painted in violent red and purple. Donna’s maneuvered herself so that she’s supporting Dick’s upper body and swearing copiously whilst Hank is peeling his sweatpants away from his bottom half to reveal any other unseen injuries (Dawn thanks whatever gods are listening that Dick apparently sleeps in his boxers). Jason stands frozen by the window, the curtains having been thrown open to improve the light, shaking. 

“Help me,” Dawn barks at him as she sets the first aid kit down and opens it up, spurring the young Robin into action. 

“What do I do?” He asks. His voice is steady even if his hands aren’t, and that’s all Dawn needs from him at the moment.

“Get my phone, the passcode is 0912 - go into the contacts, call Leslie Thompkins. Tell her that Dick’s unresponsive, has a severe bruising along the torso and his pulse is-” she reaches out, takes his limp wrist in hers and pauses, “-fuck, really weak. I think it might be internal bleeding.  _ Hurry.” _

“He’d have noticed if he had internal bleeding-” Hank protests, even as Jason runs out of the room, “I’ve been there, it’s not something you just ignore. You get dizzy, confused, cold, feverish and usually the blood shows itself one way or another.”

“He may very well have noticed,” Dawn bites out, “doesn’t mean he thought to say anything.”

“Stupid motherfucker-” Donna swears, and in the corner Rachel lets out a sob. “Stupid, stupid bastard-”

Dawn places pressure on Dick’s shoulders, chest, ribs- he curls away from the last one to the left, a whine rising in his throat despite his unconsciousness. “Fuck,” Dawn says, “fuck, okay. Donna, how’s his breathing? Any wheezing?” 

To her credit, Donna immediately cuts off her tirade to put her ear to Dick’s mouth. “No, it sounds unobstructed.”

So he probably hadn’t punctured a lung. Thank god. Following her logic, Hank made for the door with long strides. “I’m getting an IV from the infirmary,” he says as he goes through the door, and Dawn unthinkingly nods at his back. From the next room, she can hear Jason explaining the situation to Dr Thompkins- she knows that Leslie’s the only person to actually have Dick’s full medical history besides the Batman, and that she’s actually qualified to give instruction on what to do, which Bruce Wayne certainly is not. 

Maybe a normal person would have called 911, but Dawn knows Dick has a policy about going to hospitals, and that policy is ‘absolutely not’. She probably would have driven him to A&E herself regardless if he did have a punctured lung; as it is, she’s going to set Donna on him. When he’s not potentially bleeding to death. 

“Get an ultrasound too!” She yells, hoping Hank isn’t too far away to hear. They need to confirm the site of the bleed in order to relieve the pressure; mentally, she thanks whatever god is listening that the tower’s blood bank has as of yet been untouched, making it fully stocked with O negative so that Dawn didn’t have to figure out who was able to give blood and who wasn’t. She could barely remember her own blood type, let alone anyone else’s. “Recovery position on three,” she says to Donna, putting her hands underneath Dick’s hips. “One, two, three-”

They roll him onto his right side, and bend his legs up as high as they’ll stay, which is higher for Dick than for most. In the corner of the room, the black particles rising off Rachel have gone still, and a moment later Dawn hears the girl herself gasp: “I’m okay, I’m okay-”

Jason sticks his head through the door. “Leslie’s sending us someone in the area, a Dr Carmichael. She says we can trust him, and not to move him til he gets here.”

“Okay, go wait by the doors to let her in,” Dawn tells him as Hank comes back in, rolling an IV line and the boxy ultrasound behind him. “Rachel, Gar, go. You don’t need to see this.” 

“We need to know he’s okay-” Gar protests, but a pale Rachel puts a hand on his shoulder. 

“We’re in the way,” she says through white, cracked lips, and pulls him towards the door. Gar looks back anxiously, and Dawn realises that he must have seen many scenes like this back at Doom Manor. 

“You,” Dawn snaps at Dick’s unconscious face, “are in  _ so  _ much trouble.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like it; I decided to show the immediate consequences of off-screen Dick's hiding the injury rather than it actually happening or the aftermath once he's stable - if you'd like some of that, lmk and I'll have a crack at it.


	5. jealousy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick doesn’t think he’s a particularly jealous guy. He knows that he has it in him to be jealous - the whole mess with Hank and Dawn is enough proof of that - but he’s never been possessive of any of his lovers, or particularly threatened by exes or flirtatious friends.
> 
> It makes no sense for him to want to tear Faddei apart with his bare hands, that’s for sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dick feeling jealous over Kory and her Tamaranean ex, as requested by L.

Dick doesn’t think he’s a particularly jealous guy. He knows that he has it in him to be jealous - the whole mess with Hank and Dawn is enough proof of that - but he’s never been possessive of any of his lovers, or particularly threatened by exes or flirtatious friends.

It makes no sense for him to want to tear Faddei apart with his bare hands, that’s for sure.

Everything about the alien annoys him - his superior air, the way he orbits around Kory like a satellite, his painful good looks, and of course the history between him and Kory that is only hinted at, that Dick’s own mind fills in the blanks of. Dick  _ hates  _ him, and hates that he can’t just put his feelings aside when Faddei’s only real crime is wanting to take Kory back to her planet. Where she is a princess. 

“You never, uh, mentioned that you were royalty,” he awkwardly says, clued in only by the fact that Faddei calls her  _ your highness  _ every other sentence. 

“It never came up,” Kory responds, and Dick shrugs like it doesn’t mean anything, like it doesn’t matter, when it really, really does. To him, at least. Because now he’s wondering when others are coming for her, as Faddei swears there will be, whether he misunderstood how much they meant to each other, whether she has other suitors throwing themselves at her feet for even a scrap of attention, if Dick is just a blip on her radar. 

She’s a  _ princess _ , and Faddei never hesitates to remind Dick just how unworthy he is of her. Like Dick doesn’t already  _ know _ .

“So, you’re a pretty big deal back home?” Dick says, for lack of anything else to say the first time they’re alone together since Faddei made his big entrance a few days previous and turned everything Dick thought he knew about her and him on it’s head. He doesn’t know where he stands now, where they stand, if there was even a ‘them’ in the first place.

“Kind of,” she says, before lapsing into silence. 

“And you need to go back?” He asks, trying not to be obvious in how he stares at the silver necklace she wears, heavy with jewels and gemstones. 

“They want me to go back,” she corrects. “It’s not so much a need as a matter of control on my sister’s behalf. Faddei’s the carrot, so to speak. The legion - whenever they get here - are the stick. It’d be better for Earth if they didn’t.”

“I’d, er-” He stammers, any and all confidence deserting him in the face of such an iron-clad assertation, “I’d miss you. If you left.” And then in a rush, when she turns to look at him fully, something fathomless in her eyes, “Not just me, obviously. The kids would miss you, so much. And I know you and Donna are real close- and Dawn and Hank-”

“You’d miss me?” She cuts him off. His chest aches.

“Yeah,” he says, eyes on the floor before he pulls them up to meet her gaze. “Yeah, I’d miss you.”

And of course, at that moment, Faddei walks into the kitchen. “Your highness?” He says in his stupid, rich, smooth voice, “It’s-”

Whatever he was going to say next is lost. “Come back later,” Kory commands, and Dick doesn’t know who’s more surprised; him or the royal guard. 

“Your high-”

“I said,  _ come back later.”  _ Kory snaps, turning her green gaze on her bodyguard. “Don’t make me tell you again.”

Faddei bows, eyes flickering between her and Dick like he’s trying to break an invisible code. “As you order, princess,” he says, turning sharply on his heel and striding away with an overly correct posture. 

Kory smiles at him when it's just the two of them again, and Dick is helpless to do anything but smile back.


	6. nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gar’s nightmares aren’t new. He’s been having them for as long as he can remember, even before the plague; it’s just that ever since then, his mind has had a lot of material to draw from. He used to dream about being chased, about being lost, about walking around naked without realising. 
> 
> Now, he dreams about that terrible paralysis and weakness that was almost the last thing he ever felt. Now, he dreams about his parent’s bodies, long and cold and hard, unrecognisable next to a hundred others that died the same way. Now he dreams of choking on his own blood, of being trapped in a house with no doors, about the taste of flesh between his teeth. Now, he dreams about the Chief shooting him without hesitation, about being stuck as a tiger, about his skin turning to sludge, about his body being turned into iron, about his skin being radioactive to touch. 
> 
> Now, he dreams about Dick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An angsty Gar having nightmares and accidentally calling Dick dad, as requested by RandomNerd3. I hope you like it!

Gar’s nightmares aren’t new. He’s been having them for as long as he can remember, even before the plague; it’s just that ever since then, his mind has had a lot of material to draw from. He used to dream about being chased, about being lost, about walking around naked without realising. 

Now, he dreams about that terrible paralysis and weakness that was almost the last thing he ever felt. Now, he dreams about his parent’s bodies, long and cold and hard, unrecognisable next to a hundred others that died the same way. Now he dreams of choking on his own blood, of being trapped in a house with no doors, about the taste of flesh between his teeth. Now, he dreams about the Chief shooting him without hesitation, about being stuck as a tiger, about his skin turning to sludge, about his body being turned into iron, about his skin being radioactive to touch. 

Now, he dreams about Dick. 

He knows it wasn’t Dick, not really - that it was Trigon, only Trigon, that it wasn’t his fault - but his subconscious won’t get the message. In his dreams, Dick is entirely himself, clear eyed and strong and with fists of steel and a heart of ice. 

“Fight,” he begs Dick, Dick who makes gross healthy alternatives to perfectly good junk food, to Dick who always spends exactly half an hour in the shower every morning, Dick who almost killed him. “Fight,  _ please,  _ Dick- it’s me, it’s Gar-”

“You’re a killer,” Dick reminds him, expression twisted into pure loathing, “You deserve this.” And sooner or later, if it’s been hours or minutes, Gar will just- give up. Stop crying, stop begging, because it’s no use, because he’s right. 

In the real world, Rachel had saved him. Or maybe he saved Rachel. They saved each other, and Gar still returned to this hell every night.

When he was young, and human, with a family and normal nightmares, Gar’s dad would check on him before going to bed himself. He’d shake Gar gently awake and wipe away his tears and tell him to dream about something good - about tigers and superheroes and magic. 

He’s trying, Dad. He’s trying so hard. 

It’s been years, now, since Gar lost him and his mum; years since the Chief burned him inside out into something a little less than human. But when he feels hands on his shoulders, a voice telling him  _ wake up, Gar, it’s not real  _ he thinks, for a long moment, it’s his dad. 

“Daddy,” he sobs, pushing up into the comforting warmth, burying his head in his shoulder. A hesitant hand brushes against his back, and Gar remembers that his Dad is dead and he’ll never wake him up from a bad dream again. He pulls back, sees Dick’s big eyes and uncertain expression, and bites his tongue so he doesn’t say something else he can’t take back. “Sorry,” he says, focusing on the Superman poster on his wall just for something to look at, “I thought you were- someone else.”

Dick knows exactly who he thought he was, but he doesn’t say a word, leaves Robert Logan’s ghost undisturbed. Gar’s grateful, and hates that he is, and hates that he hates it, and hates the part of him that recoils from Dick’s very touch when before it was easy to be around him - a one armed hug, a shoulder bump, a hand shake - simple and thoughtless.

“I’m off to bed,” Dick says instead, “thought I’d check up on you.”

“I’m fine,” Gar lies, clenching his teeth around his fear so it won’t break free. “Night.”

“Night,” Dick says, rubbing his palms against his trousers as he walks to the door. He doesn’t look back as he closes it, and then Gar is alone again with only the dark and his subconscious for company. 

Gar closes his eyes; he can almost taste the blood in his mouth already.

**Author's Note:**

> Took me only a couple weeks to start hating this, so I’m orphaning it to preserve the fics and your lovely comments, but keep it away from my profile. Sorry to the people whose requests I didn’t do, but Titans S2 is just killing my creativity and a lot of these are first drafts that I was happy with at the time but now are just sloppy. Thanks for reading!


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